


Life Is Right

by Pyrobee



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Compliant, F/F, Femslash, Fix-It, Lesbian, She dies but not for long, Still Angsty, everything works out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 01:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10294640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrobee/pseuds/Pyrobee
Summary: "You’re here,” Max croaked and hugged her tightly. Chloe hugged her back, looking bewildered. “I’m so glad you’re here.”“Yeah, I live here,” she said, bemused. “We’re in my house, remember? Shit, Max, you’re shaking.”Max pulled back, heart in her throat. “Where is Rachel? Is she…?”“On a date with Frank the Dickhole somewhere? You just talked to her about it today.”---In which Max finally gets a good night of sleep. And hopefully the girl too, eventually. She has time to figure it out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm a bit late, but I just finished the game and am, understandably, obsessed. I haven't seen this story idea yet anywhere (though I purposefully stopped devouring Pricefield fanfiction when it popped into my head), so here's my very own attempt at making peace with my ridiculous heartbreak over the ending. There are some (in my opinion) discrepancies with the canon story, and I try to make sense of it. More on that at the bottom. For now, hope you enjoy.

Even though Max had just left the storm behind, she still felt like she faced the end of the world. She scrunched up on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees tightly to her chest as the now-familiar argument began on the other side of the room. Tears streamed down her face, and she hugged her legs tighter as it came to its conclusion. The bang still made her jump. Her chest hurt so badly. She wished it had been her instead. It was almost a relief to feel time speed on again, though she barely noticed. _How am I going to live without her now?_

When she came to, she could hear the storm.

Max shot to her feet. Hands immediately grabbed her shoulders, and she jerked away. It was Warren. They were in the halls at Blackwell, and students huddled all around, looking scared. The power had gone out, but everyone had flashlights. Max held hers so tightly, she was surprised it didn't break.

“What the hell, Warren?” Max blurted, looking around. She caught Mrs. Grant in her beam with a crying Stella beside her. There were some other students she knew as well, milling around in various shades of panic.

Warren grabbed her shoulders again, this time more carefully. 

“Max, it’s okay. We're okay. This is probably the safest place on—“

“It’s not supposed to—I—she’s dead, Warren!” Max pulled away again, hands in her hair. “It was supposed to fix everything. I fucked up again!”

“I…don’t really know what you’re saying. I think you’re in shock—“

“Snow, eclipse, whales?” Max asked, grabbing him this time. He nodded, confused.

“Yeah, you don’t remember?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, shaking. “I—I killed her for no reason!”

“Max!”

“Warren, I have to…” She looked for her bag. “Where’s my journal?”

“We were in a hurry, remember? You must have left it in your room—“

“Come on, Warren, we have to get it!” She ran to the door, but David headed her off, appearing out of nowhere. Of course he was the one to try to stop her. 

“What are you up to, missy?” he asked, and maybe they hadn’t come to an understanding in this reality. Max didn’t take the time to ask. Before Warren could grab her or David could brace himself, she shoulder checked him. The man was surprisingly sturdy and barely budged. His hand closed around her arm like a vice.

Luckily, her right hand was free, and she raised it to rewind. Instead of shoulder checking, she feinted to the right and then dove left, hitting the door way too hard and busting right through. David tried to follow, but he slipped in a puddle and went down, cutting Warren off too. She just caught sight of him tripping over the security guard as she charged into the storm.

The wind was so strong at this point that she could barely move. She could feel it trying to pick her up off her feet, but she ran as fast as she could, rewinding when she fell, and made for the dorms. The flashlight was useless. The tornado was close, probably almost close enough to swallow them whole, and visibility was practically zero.

Her memorial wall had to have something that would work, for good this time. If she died getting there…well. 

The trip seemed to go on endlessly. She kept falling and getting knocked down and rewinding, and she was so soaked that she couldn’t feel the blood that was no doubt flooding down her face. Her head split in pain, and she had this horrifying picture in her head of losing her powers and watching the dorm be ripped apart around her. But she kept going, head down, relying on instinct.

Finally, she felt her way around the corner and started across the open space that was hopefully the last stretch. As soon as she stepped away from the security of the wall, she was swept right off her feet by a powerful wind and screamed.

Rewind. She followed the side of the building, fell.

Rewind. She kept going, holding onto whatever she could with her free hand. A sprinkler at one point. She dropped the flashlight and rewound, knowing she'd need it. Eventually, she crawled to the stairs and looked up. The ghostly doe stood there, right in front of her face. It turned and disappeared as it ran into the open doors of the dorms. She crawled after it, arms shaking, and finally got inside and to her feet.

It was mayhem. The lights were out, unsurprisingly, and the wind was weaker than it was outside but not by much. Some of the doors had been blown open, and random objects flew through the air, clipping Max every now and then. CDs, clothes, books, things she couldn't see. One hit her dead in the face.

Rewind. She kept her head down, and something scraped over her. She held her arms before her face and started the long walk to her dorm. It seemed like she was barely moving. How could she get to her dorm like this before the tornado killed them all? She could see the deer, watching her. It stood beside the open door to Rachel’s old—

_Rachel!_

The one thing Max never fixed: Rachel’s death! 

The deer was gone when she reached that room. She grabbed the doorframe, dragged herself along. A table flew down the hall and crashed right into her knees, breaking—

Rewind. She ducked into Rachel’s old room. The table flew by, broke something else. Almost as soon as she entered, the window broke, and shards of glass shot straight at her, into her eyes, cutting her to—

Rewind. She threw herself to the ground. The glass flew over her head, and she felt pain, but she could see. Wind whipped at her, and she grabbed at the floor to keep from blowing right back out. The board actually started to pull out of the ground when she grabbed it, and she slid backwards, scrambled at the hole it left, dropped her flashlight inside. The board popped her in the ear so hard as it flew by that she lay dazed, face down over the new hole in the floor. When she opened her eyes, she saw a shoe box fluttering around on the ground below, illuminated by her light.

The entire building groaned. She wondered, numbly, if the roof was going to rip off. Almost without her permission, her free hand grabbed the lid, and pictures flew up out of it. She grabbed one instinctually and could barely see a picture of Chloe, driving and scowling at the camera before a blurry background. _Did Rachel take this?_

The picture, impossibly, began to warp. _Can I use a picture if I wasn't in it?_ It certainly seemed so. The picture blurred then came into focus, and reality bended around her.

When she could see, she realized she was in the back seat of her parents’ car. Everything was far more distorted than even in her last trip, and she gasped, jerking back violently. She remembered the family trip they’d taken to Arcadia Bay in the early spring to visit her future campus, though she hadn’t been accepted yet. Her parents had been so enthusiastic and excited about visiting their old town, though Max had begged off going to the Two Whales.

“Honey? Are you okay?” Her dad looked in the rearview mirror, and her mom turned, looking worried. 

“Yes! I’m—“ Max looked behind them and could just see the back of Chloe’s truck as she turned around the corner with Rachel in the passenger seat, no doubt holding a camera. Max wondered if Chloe was still scowling after the picture; her parents' car must have been the blur in the background.

Max fumbled for her phone and sent out a text to David’s now-memorized number, warning him about Jefferson and the Dark Room before deleting the evidence.

“You look pale, sweetie, let me—“ Her mom reached back, probably to check her forehead, and Max caught her hand, pressing her cheek to it.

“Mom. Dad. I love you so much,” she said, trembling. 

“You’re shaking!" She turned to Max's dad. "Pull over, hon."

“No, I’m okay. I just…I’m scared, but I…I want to see Chloe. Can you—can we go to the Two Whales? Please?”

Her parents exchanged looks. “I thought you were scared that she’d be mad,” her mom said hesitantly. 

“I… I’m more scared of losing her forever.” Max looked back, let out a shaky breath. “Please. Don’t let me back out of this.”

Reality began to warp again. Max closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, she was in darkness and definitely about to hyperventilate. Max shot up in bed and looked around, gasping for air. She heard someone move beside her, and a light went on. She was in Chloe's room. The night was silent: no storm raged outside.

“Max, what the hell?” Chloe asked, and Max burst into tears.

“You’re here,” she croaked and hugged her tightly. Chloe hugged her back, looking bewildered. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, I live here,” she said, bemused. “We’re in my house, remember? Shit, Max, you’re shaking.”

“Was there an eclipse?” Max managed to ask, burying her face in Chloe’s shoulder. “A double moon?”

“What?” Chloe’s voice was bewildered. “Are you having a bad trip or something?” 

Max pulled back, heart in her throat. “Where is Rachel? Is she…?”

“On a date with Frank the Dickhole somewhere? You just talked to her about it today.” Chloe grabbed her shoulders tightly, as if trying to hold her together, and Max focused on breathing. She pulled back when the tears stopped, but she knew she still looked all ugly and scrunched up. Chloe just looked at Max like she didn’t know how to fix her. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

Max let out a breath, slumping forward. Chloe’s forehead touched hers. “Yeah, Chlo. Or something. I’m just…so glad you’re here.”

Chloe snorted and joked, weakly, “Don’t hear that too often.” She closed her eyes, too close to see Max clearly. “Shit, must have been a hella bad dream. Was it…about Jefferson? Did I die?"

Max stiffened, and she jerked back again to stare at Chloe, wide-eyed.

The blue-haired girl looked away, uncomfortable. “I had a nightmare about him too. He took you and Rachel, and I looked around for months in the dark, but I couldn’t find you.” Her eyes went distant, and her hands clenched into fists on the mattress. “I’m so glad the step-prick got those fucking creeps before you ever had to meet them.”

“Nathan and Jefferson are…?” 

“Yeah, Max, they’re in jail. For a long time, too.” She hesitated before hugging Max to her tightly again and rubbing her back, and Max relaxed into her. “It was just a nightmare,” she whispered. “It’s all over.”

Tears welled in Max’s eyes again, and she eventually broke the hug, wiping at them.

“I’m, um, I’m going to get some water,” she said, clambering off the bed. 

“Watch out for the step-douche,” Chloe said without her usual bite, and Max grabbed her bag from the floor and closed the door behind her softly. She walked down the steps on wobbly legs and turned the light on in the kitchen. 

Max sat in the floor and opened her bag. Her journal was full of words, drawings, and pictures; it was like before, but the content was so different. For one, the butterfly photo was conspicuously absent. She checked her journal to look for clues and saw no mention of a bathroom or of giving the photo to Chloe. What she did see were numerous references to Rachel and Chloe and completely teenaged affairs. No dead whales or birds, no eclipse or double moon. Just a whole lot of anger over Jefferson and…jealousy over Rachel and Chloe, actually. And apparently she'd found the courage to turn in her Everyday Heroes photo and had won, which meant another trip to San Francisco soon. _Did Rachel and Chloe convince me? I don't really want to go anymore, not after everything._

She’d been texting Chloe on and off since before April. According to her journal, when Max had decided out of the blue to visit the diner on her trip to Arcadia, Chloe and Rachel had already been eating there. That...really hadn’t gone well, but the texts between them had gotten increasingly more civil until Chloe had actually responded with, “HELL YES!” when Max told her about getting into Blackwell. 

Her phone was full of texts from those two—flirty ones from Rachel and teasing ones from Chloe—and absent of threatening texts from Nathan or his father or Jefferson in disguise. And she had quite a few from Kate, who was happy and had never been drugged, and Warren, who was considerably less happy but finally dating Brooke. She guessed she neglected him in every timeline. _Poor guy._

She still wondered about the tornado and the doe. Had those been Rachel trying to talk to her? Had Chloe died a dozen times to get Max to do something? Maybe...the butterfly had been her? And it had to be fate that she, well, had the powers in the first place and just so happened to grab the one photo that would save them all. Everyone but William… He’d had a tragic death, undoubtedly, but it had been quick, and he'd been older. Rachel had been drugged and terrified, pawed over by an evil psychopath for “art.” If anything would cause the wrath of mother nature and a break in reality, maybe it was the loss of all that potential in such a horrible way…

Finally feeling like she had a handle on things, she put all her stuff away and actually got the glass of water. But her hands were still a bit shaky, apparently, because when she set it down, it fell over and then rolled off the table, spilling water everywhere. She raised her hand instinctively to reverse time and then jerked it back down, wide-eyed.

Nothing had happened.

Breathing raggedly, Max raised her hand again. Nothing moved. The glass didn’t roll back over from wherever and hop onto the table. The water didn’t suck back into the cup. The only movement came from Max’s trembling hand.

“Oh my lord,” she said. _Does this mean I finally fixed it?_

She stared at her hand, not noticing the soft footsteps on the stairs or the approach of someone behind her. When Chloe said, “Shit, what a mess,” she shot to her feet and spun around.

“Chloe!” Max grabbed the other girl’s face and kissed her before she could stop herself. Just like with the last surprise kiss—which now had never happened—Chloe jerked back, stunned.

“Whoa, Max Attack, you—you gotta at least buy me dinner first,” she said, sounding breathless and embarrassed. 

Max blushed and laughed weakly. “I’ve…already bought you breakfast. Isn’t that enough?” And she had no real memories of this timeline, but Chloe didn’t deny it because Chloe was still Chloe.

“Never,” Chloe growled. “But seriously”—she scratched the back of her head, nervous—“let’s clean this up and go to bed. If you have another bad dream, I’ll…kick its ass for you.”

And Max wanted more of Chloe—she always wanted more of Chloe, had often, and especially lately, lost sleep over it—but her desperation from the last few days had faded. She let Chloe lead her to what would be her most restful sleep across all the timelines and was finally content because, for the first time since she got her powers, she felt like she had all the time she needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Explanation time. You so don't have to read this, but I kinda have to write it. So I thought it was really weird for time powers to pop up out of nowhere if Max wasn't meant to use them (that's how I justified my decision to go back and sacrifice Arcadia, anyway. And dang, Dontnod, way to go creating a character I'd sacrifice a town for). Why get the power in the first place? At first I reasoned that it was because fate was giving Max a chance to spend time with Chloe before she died, but that seems unbelievably cruel. Then I noticed that Max never got a chance to save Rachel, and I wondered. Plus the timeline doesn't really match up. I thought it was weird that the storm came while Max was in San Francisco because that must have been days later than the original storm. Strange. Of course, Chloe keeps dying, which sounds like fate, but I kind of see as the only way to get Max to dedicate herself to solving everything. She is her number one priority, after all. The funeral is pretty convincing, but in my culture, funerals happen pretty closely after deaths. Chloe died on Tuesday, so it makes sense that her funeral would be before the storm. In my headcanon, Max fast forwards past that after using the butterfly photo and goes right back to the storm, though it's progressed a lot more. Okay, I think that's it. I know I'm way too into this lol but you don't write fanfics if you aren't passionate. Anyway, let me know what you think.


End file.
